The Appeal
by EaGLes41574
Summary: Post Hogwarts. One Shot. She let them down, at least in her mind. He is her cheerleader, though there is more to this than he leads on. [DM/HG] Complete.


"Where is she?" I rushed over as soon as I heard. Forget my afternoon meetings and the two appointments, I didn't even cancel them. Hopefully my secretary knows; she should by now.

I knew she'd be crying, this meant the world to her, and I needed to be there for her first, foremost, and always.

Her best friend just pointed to her bedroom in their shared flat. Well semi-shared flat. Her best friend has been here about half the time since her husband is overseas and she is due with their first, a son, any day now.

I slowly open the door to her lilac colored bedroom. So much lilac. Any amount is too much for me, but for her it is calming. And the nauseating puce that accents it isn't any better. This woman, she's remarkable in so many thing, and remarkably terrible when it comes to picking out a furniture pallet.

There she lays on the edge of the bed, face planted in a pillow, a deathgrip on the white wrought iron headboard shaking from her silent tears. Her right leg is doing the weird step up thing she does, it looks like she is taking an imaginary step - a high one too - sending her leg in almost a perfect 90* angle. I may sound like I don't like the way it lies, but honestly that isn't the truth. I would never admit it to anyone, especially the two women here, but it is perfect. When we sleep together, my leg wraps between her right and left so easily, it's natural. My legs just fit in that little step.

"How bad was it?" I sit on what little edge of the bed that is left, rubbing her back.

When she doesn't respond, I know it is bad. I pull her hair over to the side, hoping to get a glimpse of some expression that will tell me how bad, but she just buries it deeper in the rusty purple colored pillow cases.

"Let me help you." Her hair goes flying everywhere as she shakes her head.

"I let them all down. Everyone. Everyone was counting on me. I let them down."

"You could never let them down. You're the reason they are here. You've saved them all. Look at me. Look at how you saved me."

Her hair goes flying again and I realize that this isn't going to be beneficial to anyone if I can't see her. I make my way over to the bathroom looking for one of those huge clips she uses to pull her hair into something that is reasonably presentable. As I look around for that I see a couple of things I never would have expected just laying on the counter: her mother's ring and the locket I bought her when she got this job. She would never take either of them off, ever. She wouldn't admit it but they were her lucky charms - she would wear the ring to give her confidence; she would say that she could feel her mother standing beside her when she wore it. The necklace would focus her, she would joke that she would 'channel the Slytherin ambition' with it but keep her Gryffindor ideals. My fingers trace the locket, holding one of the first pictures of the two of us inside.

Grabbing whatever clip is at hand and scooping up the jewelry, I return to her side, kneeling by the bed. "You took this off. Let me put them back on."

"They didn't help."

"Did you go in there with the confidence of a lion? I know you did. Did you go in with the love your mother taught you for others? I know you did. Were you ambitious? Of course. They didn't let you down. You didn't let anyone down. If anything it was those who didn't believe in you that let everyone else down." I clip back her hair then go to put her necklace back on. "You were courageous in this. This was a war that needs to be fought, but maybe not all at once. You didn't win the war in on battle, you won it with many many little battles that gave you the strength for the final one. Take this the same way. It is a little battle, fine one that was lost, but it isn't the war." I leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You're better than any of those who voted against it. You're smarter than everyone on that podium. Let's take this as a lesson and learn from it."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" I say stroking her back. Damn I just noticed that she's in a t-shirt and lace knickers and feel myself harden as I take all of her in.

"How are you my cheerleader? You can bring me out of the darkest places, and make it seem like nothing. You make it look as easy as eating a piece of cake."

"Because it is easy. You are so hard on yourself in these times, you focus on the big prize and think that you've lost it. I need to remind you that there are little prizes along the road and by the time you reach the big one, you're cart will be full already. And there is that other little thing that makes it so easy."

Her head turns and I see her scrunched up little nose which I take my thumb and try and rub out the adorable creases it has, "What is that?"  
"You make it easy for me to cheer you on at every step; you make it easy because loving you is the easiest thing there is for me to do."

Her head flops back down into the pillow, "shuddup" is barely audible.

"It's true," I look down and realize where exactly my hand is and I mentally curse myself. This isn't the time to get aroused, it isn't the time to be intimate with her, but her arse is just perfection to me. I take a deep breath and attempt to move my hand back up to her back and not make it look completely suspicious. "I hate seeing you hurt. I only want to help you every step to get what you want. I will support you and how you go about it. Even when I disagree with it, I will support you."

"This sounds like more than just trying to cheer me up. Your speeches are never usually this long winded nor fluffy." It is a good thing I understand her through her pillow. This isn't the first time that something fell through like this, and I know it won't be the last. And she's right, I'm not usually like this in my cheering-up speeches. But she also doesn't have all the information.

"Scoot over. The floor is hard." I slyly change the subject away from her inquisitive mind. She obliges and I lay down next to her. "Tell me everything. No detail left out. I need to know who to get blackmail material on for the next round."

"You will not blackmail anyone!" She finally digs herself out of her pillow, props herself up on her elbows, and give me a glare that would scare even a full grown werewolf in heat.

"Fine, no blackmailing. I promise you. And you know I can never break a promise to you."

I wrap my legs around her, holding her tight to me.

"I wish I could have done more." Her pillow is wet from her tears as I rest my arm under her. "They deserve more. More compassion. More forgiveness."

"That will just make you work harder. You know I want to help."

"This is my battle," she snuffs out. I reach over getting her the box of tissues that seem to live alongside her bed.

"I want it to be our battle. Let me share some."

She shakes her head. "I made them out to be monsters."

"They were monsters, you had nothing to do with that."

"But, but…"

"There are no buts to this. They were monsters."

"I saved you… how could I not save them? They are…"

I hold her tighter, dreading the next words out of her mouth. "They are my parents, I know."

"If we have any kids…"

"They will know their grandparents. They will have Molly and Arthur. They will not be without."

"I'm so sorry."

"Again, you have nothing to be sorry for." I look over her body again, she is worried about possible kids; Merlin I love this woman. "I must ask though, did you wear those knickers to work today?" I tilt my head and examine what little lacy fabric is covering her arse.

"Why?"

"Black and red lace?" I look at her questioning. Usually she only wears that out on special dates and when she hasn't done laundry - which I know she did the other day after helping her lug it up three floors of her muggle apartment.

"I thought we would be celebrating."

Words my ears didn't need to hear as the meaning went directly to my pants. I let a little moan slip out as my pants get noticeably tighter.

"Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" This woman is the death of me. Death by utter confusion.

"We aren't celebrating."

I sigh. "Not tonight we aren't, but there will be more celebrations in the future. Many more."

"How many more are going to be joined only by ghosts? We are losing everyone"

"But we have also been gaining so many. Look at both of us, would you have thought that we would be anywhere near each other now? I only did in my sixteen year old fantasies."

She rolled over in a flash, her eyes digging into mine to get answers. "Explain yourself."

"We both know that was a bad year for me. I saw you and you were happy. It was all I ever wanted, that kind of pure happiness. Especially in the darkness of that year. When I went to bed, and when I actually slept more importantly, I would wake to the most intense dreams. Some were devastating, and I would ball up like you just were. Others were much more intimate."

"With whom?" Her eyes look sad as they hope I would say only one name - hers.

I try and hold back a chuckle, "Feeling a little jealous? Of sixteen year old me and my dream woman?" Her lower lip quivers, showing her hand and all the insecurities. "Don't." I shake my head. "You may not want to know what they consisted of, because even a few would make me blush telling you, but there was only one star in them."

"Parkinson…" her voice was low and laced with sadness.

"Nope. Sorry brightest witch of the age, not Parkinson. Why would anyone have dreams of her?"

"Then who?" she inquired, a note of hope in her voice.

"I can tell you this," rolling her over so she can see the sincerity in my eyes, "she wouldn't give me the time of day then, but today she is wearing my ring." I look at the engagement ring adorning her finger, giving it a slight twist.

"You were dreaming about me in sixth year?" I can't tell if she's disgusted at the idea or what that emotion is swirling around her hazelnut brown eyes.

"Ummmm more than just dreaming. There were nights…" I know I'm blushing.

She's biting her lips together, I don't know if it is to stifle a laugh or if she is embarrassed for me. "You had a thing for me back then? Inconceivable."

"I've always wanted what I can't have, and who would have ever thought that the two of us would be here, mourning the fact my parents can't attend our wedding. Especially in that oh so miserable sixth year?"

"It's not just that, I saw her and her eyes…"

"I know my mum isn't the witch she used to be. She hasn't for years. That is why I stayed away, I worried if you saw me and saw her you would break down. I couldn't have you do that today."

"She deserves better. Both of them have given up enough."

I think about how many more weeks there are until I slide on a wedding band on her finger, "You never told me the outcome."

"Still life. Not even allowed to see the wedding by pensive." I cringe. I was hoping that my mother could at least have that option. "I have the option in two years and six months to appeal."

"Well that gives us two years and four months to work on the appeal." I know it is best to have the appeal paperwork in early so when the time comes, they will be on the already full docket. "And who knows where you will be in two years. Maybe…" My hand drifts to her stomach and then a little lower, "Maybe we would have a more persuasive argument for at least visitation."

"Draco, I hope so." She rolls over onto my shoulder, probably one of the few dry spots on the bed to lay her head.

"It will Hermione. It is only two years and six months."


End file.
